Thank you for the lovely comments :). Just to clarify – the five chapters of this will be five different scenarios of how Rusty (and later, the team) might have found out / talked about the letters with Sharon. They're stand-alone, and can each be seen as 'missing scenes' associated with different episodes. (Although one or two might be a little AU-ish)

This second chapter takes place right after the events of "Year-End Blowout", when Rusty first went out with SIS and failed at all of the things, and Amy scared the sense back into him. Because if Rusty already knew about the letters before the hearing in the finale, my second guess is that he could've found out somehow around the SIS operation. Such as when he was being yelled at for not sticking to the plan.

Part Two

following "Year-End Blowout"

He'd come in tired, worn out after the long afternoon spent with Det. Sykes practicing his driving maneuvers again (would this time be sufficient...?), and the rough debriefing afterwards with her and Lt. Cooper. They'd taken him to a different floor, Sharon knew – a foreign briefing room, a place out of his comfort zone, somewhere where they could really lay it on and chastise him for the terrible outcome of his first day out in the field.

Sharon was not unsympathetic – she'd known the field test would be hard on him, and after hearing the details she'd been unsurprised that he'd failed it. (His mother – God, had anyone really thought that he'd do anything but what he'd done? Did none of them know Rusty in the least?). But she hadn't stopped Cooper from delivering his angry lecture. Rusty needed to hear it. Even if he didn't want to, even if it made him mad, it was his life at stake here, every day, and if he didn't start doing things right, if the time came and he made a mistake...God. She couldn't fathom it. Every time she thought about this entire operation, her skin began to crawl.

If field test scares and furious reprimands were what it took to get Rusty on track, Sharon would allow them without hesitation. She knew how hard Amy and Cooper would be on him – but her sympathy and compassion paled next to her all-encompassing preoccupation with his safety. She'd have let every single officer on that SIS team yell at him, if she'd thought it would help. Made Det. Sykes drill him on the details of proper driving for the rest of the week, if that meant he'd be safer. Even if she wished with all her heart that none of this were necessary in the first place.

By the time Amy and Lt. Cooper had let him go, he'd stalked over to her office, security detail in tow, and the bleak look he'd given her had been more than enough indication of the awful day he'd had. His hair was messy, his face flushed, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

It wouldn't have helped to tell him that she wasn't any happier with this, either.

She'd been standing by her office window when Rusty marched in. He slammed the door behind him, leaving the two officers on the other side as usual, and stomped over to one of the chairs, pulling it further away from her before he dropped into it. His shoulders were rigid with tension.

Sharon let out a soft sigh. She wasn't angry with him... not anymore, though there had been a part of her that had wanted to yell at him herself when she'd heard how he'd completely disregarded all his training on the very first day.

But not anymore. Right now all she wanted was to take her son home, and put the whole awful thing behind them, at least for the night. At least for the night, she could take him away from all this, and be assured that he was under her supervision again, safe, and not out on the streets where that psychopath could get him.

The thought again sent shivers down her spine. She shifted on the balls of her feet, trying to shake the heavy unease.

Her heart hadn't beat right today until she'd seen him walk back into the murder room. And she dreaded the next morning already, the thought that once again he'd go out and she'd spend excruciating hours staring at those infernal screens, wondering each time that someone sat down to play chess with Rusty if this wasn't it. Wondering if they'd try to hurt him, if they weren't armed, if they wouldn't make a move... all they'd need was a concealed weapon, and even SIS wasn't faster than a bullet...

She let her head fall back slightly, arms tightening across her chest as she chased the image from her mind.

If every day from now on would feel like this, Sharon doubted that the operation would go on for long. She couldn't stand for it. Even if the alternative was boarding school...

...but then at boarding school, he'd be away from her all the time, and without the police protection, without the monitors, with no way to contact her if something went wrong and how was that any better?

Sometimes she wondered if Rusty was aware of how little choice in this she had, herself.

With another sigh, she walked back over to the desk and quietly closed the couple of open folders that waited there, her eyes still on the boy's tense form as she tidied up with tired motions. "Are you ready to go home...?"

They could talk about what happened when they got home. A little time and a little distance from the police station were probably a good idea anyway.

Rusty didn't look up at her, his own arms crossed tightly around the backpack hugged to his chest. He was scowling at the foot of her desk instead, and he said nothing.

"Rusty," she spoke softly.

God, it had been a long day.

"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

She recognized the tell-tale twitch in his neck, the way his head turned away imperceptibly, which meant that no, he didn't want to talk because he was mad or upset – but she was tired also, too tired for this, and if he wanted to be silent, he could be silent in the car, too.

"Alright. Let's go, then. We'll pick up some dinner on the way."

Still nothing. The tip of his shoe scuffed angrily at the floor, and if anything the boy's scowl intensified. His shoulders tensing up, a sure sign that he wasn't going to make it easy, and Sharon shook her head and tried to remind herself that most adults wouldn't deal with the kind of stress he was under, that it wasn't his fault, that he was doing far better than could be asked of him still...

"Rusty, come on," she instructed tiredly. "I understand that it's been a... demanding day. Sitting here being angry about it isn't going to improve things. Get up please."

She knew he wouldn't ignore an outright request, so she wasn't surprised to see him fidget, but instead of getting up, he finally turned his head to look at her, and the painful scowl on his face made her chest hurt.

"Did you know?" he mumbled, arms still clutching the backpack tightly to his chest.

So they would talk.

She wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to. So much had happened that day. "Know...?"

"About what they were doing to do, Sharon." His jaw clenched, making his whole expression even more miserable. "Did you know – about – that guy who...threatened... the undercover guy at the park, with the notepad...?"

Ah. She bit her lips, chin falling to her chest for a second. "I knew that there would be a field test, yes," she said finally, looking back at him. The disbelief in his eyes broke her heart.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?! He – he threatened – he said he was gonna kill my mom, Sharon!" His voice cracked on her name. "How could you not tell me something like that! No, you know what, how could you even... " He trailed off, still looking at her with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You can't just keep everything from me, Sharon! You can't just like, not tell me these things...!"

"Rusty, I didn't know the full details of what they'd do," she said quietly. "But even if I had – the point of this field test was to see how you'd react to an unexpected adverse situation – "

"An 'adverse situation', are you kidding me?!"

"– and if you'd known about it, it would've rendered the whole thing moot," she carried on over his outburst, "so I couldn't have told you anyway."

"Just like you never told me about the letters?"

Silence fell between them.

It reined for one long beat, the sudden silence. Rusty was still glaring at her, the same angry anxiety in his red-rimmed eyes. He'd gritted his teeth and was scowling again, waiting for her response.

Sharon tilted her head, her expression impenetrable while her hands sought her pockets. "What letters."

"You know what letters, Sharon!" the boy accused. "The threat letters you've been getting. The ones that that psycho's been sending you! The ones you didn't bother telling me about, like, it didn't even occur to you that maybe I should – "

"Who told you about that?"

"Seriously?! Like, that's what's important right now?! You lied to me!"

Her eyebrows flew up, her blooming annoyance momentarily replaced by a mixture of hurt and guilt. She suppressed the need to defend herself, because that wasn't the point here. He was wrong, yes... but going on the defensive wouldn't solve anything.

"Who talked to you about the letters, Rusty?" she asked again in a neutral tone. Though – woe to whoever had, because she'd made it extremely clear that Rusty was to have no further contact with the letters, the last thing he needed was more stress, and –

"Lt. Cooper, okay?!" he sputtered at her annoyed look, "but it should've been you! You said you'd never keep things from me, Sharon, and you didn't – you gave me your word, okay, that was our deal!"

"We can discuss that in a minute," she said as calmly as she could – but the betrayal in his expression made her break her own resolution. She sighed, "Rusty, I did not lie to you."

"You didn't tell me that that psycho is threatening you!"

"I told you that any further threat letters we've received are not your concern," she replied, "and they absolutely aren't. Whether they're sent to you or me is irrelevant information; regardless to whom they're addressed they are still none of your concern–"

"How can you say that – "

" –and that's been true the first time I said it, and it continues to be true now. Rusty – I understand if you're upset right now, but those threat letters are not a discussion point between us," she told him with finality. "Dealing with them is my responsibility. I've said that to you several times already, and I'm not going to rehash it again – your responsibility in this operation," Sharon narrowed her eyes to keep him from interrupting, "is to cooperate with regard to your safety, and to listen to the instructions you're given. And if you want to discuss which one of us isn't keeping their word," she added in a wry tone, "perhaps you'd like to explain to me what happened out there today."

The boy gaped at her for a second, his brain obviously struggling between expressing further anger over the letters, and defending himself over the field test incident.

The latter won out.

"He threatened to kill my mom, Sharon," Rusty said finally, miserably, his entire body slumping as the anger seemed to leave him. "What was I supposed to do? Wait – no... I know what I was supposed to do, okay, but..." He trailed off with an unhappy shrug.

"That's right." Her voice was low, placid – though her heart was breaking for him, and she understood his reasons, she did...but it was his life at stake here and her compassion couldn't supersede that. "You knew what you were supposed to do. But you didn't do that, did you?"

His shoulders slumped further. "I...I didn't know, Sharon, I thought..." His eyes were red and teary when he looked up at her. A silent plea for understanding and sympathy.

Sharon sighed.

"I know," she murmured.

It was hard to hold anything against him, it was such an impossible situation... but to take lightly a mistake that could've cost him his life was harder still, and she didn't know how to do this...

With slightly shaking fingers, Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache was building in her temples.

"I know," she repeated quietly. Rusty looked so miserable that it was causing tears to pool in her own eyes. With another soft sigh, she shook her head. "There's still time. If you want to back out of this operation..."

"What?! No!"

She held up a hand. "Rusty... this isn't going to get any easier. The tension, the stress..." She shook her head again, her voice lowering. "It would be a lot for a trained officer to handle, and the risks involved are... if you'd rather – if you want to reconsider witness protection..."

"No!" He leaned forward, dropping the backpack aside, his eyes wide. "No, Sharon I want to help you catch this guy, okay? I'm – I'll do everything that Lt. Cooper says, I swear, you can ask Det. Sykes too – we practiced all afternoon, I can do this, Sharon...!"

The headache wasn't getting any better.

She hated having so few options. So few, and all of them... each worse than the next.

"Alright," she said eventually. This wasn't a battle she was going to win tonight. "I'll talk to Det. Sykes and Lt. Cooper again, see what they have to say."

"I did everything they told me, I swear." A beat, then he lowered his eyes. "I mean – this afternoon. After..."

She gave a brief nod. Yes. After. The problem was, in their line of work there wasn't always an 'after'.

This was why this was her job, the job of trained police officers, of people who knew what they were getting into … Not Rusty's.

Except they didn't have a better choice.

"Go wait for me in your cubicle please. I'll have a word with Amy, and then we'll go home. Go on," she repeated when the boy hesitated. "I'll come get you in a minute."

He stood, but halfway to the door he turned around again. "Sharon... about those letters..."

She lifted her chin a fraction, and met his eyes. "We're finished discussing the letters, Rusty," she said with calm finality. "Everyone on the team is continuing to look into them, and the FBI as well; if they reveal any clues as to the identity of the writer, I'll let you know – and until that time," she requested, "you will focus on the far more important issue of keeping yourself safe, by following instructions." With that, she pointed archly in the direction of the door. "Cubicle. Now, please."

There was a wary sort-of-eyeroll that he didn't manage to suppress in time, but he went. The detectives in his protection detail fell into step behind him just a few feet away from her door.

Good.

Sharon caught Det. Sykes' eye through the glass wall of her office. The young woman looked worried and uneasy – and for damn good reason too. With a brief jerk of her head, Sharon motioned her to come into the office, then went around the desk to sit down in her chair.

" – it was going well, the rest of the afternoon Rusty practiced all the maneuvers and he didn't miss another thing, but by the time Lt. Cooper joined us, well, it was really late and everyone was tired..."

Amy sighed inwardly as she recalled the scene from just half an hour before...

" – spent the last week drilling into your head what the protocol was, and you pull what? Some stupid amateur move!"

Rusty sat there, mostly quiet through Cooper's yelling – and Amy had to admit that he'd taken the lectures and the drilling with surprising maturity so far. She'd scared the hell out of him earlier in the car, she could tell – good. He'd needed the scare. And a good talking to. His attitude was driving the Captain crazy with worry and he was acting like a complete idiot kid about it.

" – that kind of stupid stunt, if this had been the real deal, could've gotten you and a lot of my good officers killed! And I don't like that, kid! Do you get just how little I like that?"

It felt like Rusty did. His head was down, his expression serious. "I get it, okay? And I said I was sorry like... a hundred times."

"Yeah? Well that's not good enough! If I'm gonna risk my people to save your sorry ass, Jump Street, your excuses aren't good enough!"

"Hey – "

"Tell me, which part of 'signal your distress' were you having trouble with? It was just touching your goddamn hand to your goddamn head – or were you having trouble finding that head, hm?" Cooper pointed an accusatory finger at Rusty's blond mop, and the boy flinched instinctively away, causing Amy to shoot a warning look at the lieutenant.

"Listen, I didn't mean – "

"I didn't waste my and my team's time trying to keep you alive, just so you could go out there and throw all of our hard work out the window," the man interrupted disdainfully. "If you can't follow my instructions, then we're done, kid."

"I can do it!" pleaded Rusty.

"Yeah? You sure about that? 'cause I didn't see much of that out there today. In fact," Cooper glared, "I'm thinking we're better off shipping you to some witness protection hole than – "

"What?!"

Amy grimaced. This was maybe a lower blow than necessary. "Alright – "

"You don't get to decide that, okay!" Rusty's expression had turned angry. "You have no idea what– "

"You're the one who has no idea here, kid," the lieutenant informed him, "as you've shown us all today."

"You threatened to kill my mom!" the boy exploded, his cheeks growing red.

"I gave you a situation to deal with," retorted Cooper calmly. "As you were trained to do. And you dealt with it wrong. In real life," he scowled, "you and your mom would both be dead by now."

Rusty gaped at him in disbelief.

"Captain, I'm so sorry – I didn't intervene in time, Rusty was getting angry over the thing with his mother, and then Lt. Cooper mentioned the letters, and – "

Sharon held up a hand, glaring silently. She was stressed and tired and uninterested in prolonged apologies or a play by play of how exactly they had blatantly ignored her instructions.

Catching the look, Amy swallowed and cut short her lamentation with a nod. "I apologize. I hadn't realized that the lieutenant didn't know that we were keeping the letter developments under wraps. I should've made sure."

Of course he knew, thought Sharon, she'd made it plain to everyone involved in this that she did not want any more details about the case discussed with Rusty than necessary! His life, as he'd told her repeatedly, was already a police action. She was trying to limit that as much as she could.

"I'd like to speak with Lt. Cooper, too," she said in a low voice. "Could you please send him up here?"

Amy cringed, "Uh – I think he's gone home for the day, Ma'am."

Sharon opened her mouth to repeat the request, because she didn't care where he'd gone, she wanted Cooper in that office right. Now! – but she refrained. Instead she pressed her lips tighter together and gave a tense nod. "Thank you, detective."

Sykes shifted on the balls of her feet, her expression still uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry again, Captain. I know you didn't want Rusty knowing about the … other threat letters."

Sharon returned another quiet nod. "I didn't. But there's no way to take it back now, and I'd rather focus on the more important issue of keeping Rusty safe."

"For what it's worth," said Amy, "he did really well today – after the field test, I mean. I took him through all the scenarios we talked about. He's got it all down, Ma'am. He can do this."

"He shouldn't have to," said Sharon, before she could stop herself. After a moment she shook her head, lifted her chin and repeated, "Thank you, detective."

This time, Amy took the words for the dismissal that they were, and with a short acknowledging nod, she retreated back to the murder room.

As the detective left her office, Sharon nursed her anger for a moment longer, swearing to herself that she'd let Cooper hear it and oh he would rue the day... then with a quiet sigh she forced the emotion aside.

It wasn't Lt. Cooper's fault that things had gotten to this point. The man was only trying to help, and in telling Rusty about the rest of the threat letters he'd clearly just been trying to make the boy more aware and less belligerent. It wasn't his fault that everything was stressful and that he didn't understand just how distressing the operation was for the boy or what a toll it was taking on both Rusty and herself... It really wasn't his fault.

She had to remind herself that it wasn't her fault either. Though it had been her signature on those damn forms that had led Rusty to this, that made him go out on the street every day and put his life in danger, when he wasn't supposed to, when he shouldn't have had to, when...

...but no. No, ultimately, this wasn't her doing, either. It was... really, it was no one's fault but the letter writer's – and against him, Sharon allowed herself as much anger as she could muster. She would find that man if it was the last thing she did. She would find him, and she would make sure that he'd never, ever be a problem for Rusty again.

She would.

But for now, she had to go deal with the boy. He was tired and stressed and unhappy, and however much Sharon wished it, there was very little she could do for him tonight. But she could take him home. Take him home, and put the long day behind them, get some dinner that he'd enjoy and try to remind him that no matter what else, that was still always a safe place for him to go.

Tiredly, she pushed the chair back and stood up, and reached for her bag.

Rusty was sitting behind the desk in his cubicle, his backpack abandoned on the floor and a preoccupied crease between his eyebrows. He jumped slightly when she came in, as though startled from deep thought. His eyes came up to meet hers, anxious and questioning.

"Let's go, honey," she murmured, motioning with her head toward the exit.

The boy stood up cautiously. "You talked to Lt. Cooper and Det. Sykes...?"

Sharon hummed. "Just Det. Sykes. But yes."

"So..." Again that anxious look. "I can still go to the park, tomorrow...?"

A quiet sigh left her lips almost against her will. After a moment, she dipped her head, slowly. "Just like today. Amy assures me that you've... learned. That you can do what you're told."

"I can," swore Rusty. "I'll do exactly what they say. Sharon, I – I really want to do this. Now..." He trailed off, and looked away. "I can do it."

Right. Sharon motioned again for him to come along, and Rusty picked up his backpack, giving her another long worried look as he walked past her out of the cubicle.

They walked to the elevator in silence, after saying goodnight to everyone left in the murder room. The protection detail followed them down the garage and made sure it was all clear, then headed for another car. Rusty knew the drill by now. They'd follow Sharon's car to the condo, where two other detectives would meet them, to change shifts. It was the same thing every day.

He slipped into the right front seat wearily, and reached for his seatbelt. When Sharon was fastening hers, their eyes met again, and he couldn't help a nervous twitch; he saw her lips twist sympathetically in return, but she didn't comment. "Is G&T good for dinner?"she asked instead, in a quiet voice.

Rusty shrugged. It was a nice enough place, and they hadn't eaten from there in a while. And it had really good steak and fries. Fast take-out, too: if they called now, they'd probably be able to pick up the order by the time they got there in twenty minutes.

He told Sharon yes, and she made a quick phone call to place their order before pulling the car out into the street. They drove in silence for a while, her eyes on the road, his mind on everything that had happened today.

At a long stoplight he glanced back, to see the headlights of the two officers' car right behind them.

"Sharon...?" he turned toward her as the car was starting to move again, the light now green.

Her eyes flickered to him. "What is it?"

He could still see the reflection of the headlights in the side mirror. The security officers were supposed to stick close, he knew.

"Do you think you should get your own protection detail?"

There was a long, pregnant pause.

"Rusty," Sharon sighed warningly.

"I know, but like – look, if this guy's threatening you...! I mean – "

"You're the witness against Phillip Stroh, Rusty. Whoever's writing these letters is focused on you, not me. And you should be focused on you as well," she finished pointedly.

"But Sharon, if you're danger...!"

"I'm not."

"But if he's writing you threat letters, I mean, what – what do those even say...?!"

He saw her gaze shift briefly to him again, before she looked back to the road. "Nothing of consequence," she replied, then shook her head when he made another noise of protest. "Rusty, the letters are an intimidation technique. I have no intention of letting it be effective… and neither should you. Please don't worry on my behalf. I'm not in danger."

He shifted uneasily in his seat. "Sharon..." The city around them, the cars on the road, suddenly seemed a lot scarier.

After today, the whole threat letters thing suddenly seemed a lot scarier, too.

Rusty rubbed his hands to his face, frustrated.

"I think you should consider getting a protection detail," he repeated in an unhappy mutter, a little warily because obviously Sharon was annoyed, but... it was just a good idea, okay?

"Rusty, I am a protection detail," she argued a little impatiently. "First of all – and second of all, in any case given that we live together, I benefit from the exact same protection that you do."

"Not when I'm at the park! The whole SIS team is with me, then!"

"As they should be. Alright – this discussion is unnecessary," Sharon told him. "Things are exactly as they're supposed to be, and they will continue in this manner until we catch the person who's been threatening you."

"Us."

"Rusty."

"Look, I don't get what the big deal is," he insisted. "You make me have officers around, like, they've been following me everywhere for months! I'm not complaining," he hurried to add when she glared at him, "but like, if I get threatened and you get me a security detail, I don't see why you won't do the same when you get threatened!"

"Those threats against me are groundless – Rusty, please keep your focus here," she urged him. "Forget about the letters. They don't concern you anymore. Your priority now is the SIS operation."

"I am – I mean I know – but … look, I'm 'keeping my focus', okay, I am, but Sharon if this guy wants to hurt you, don't you think – "

"Rusty, he doesn't want to hurt me," she pointed out in a tired voice. "I told you – you're his target. His only target," she added. "You're the one who's a danger to Phillip Stroh. You're the one he's trying to come after. Not me. You."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"That's not something that should make you feel better," she said darkly.

Rusty crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the seat. Fine. She had a point, and now his stomach was all twisted up in knots even worse than before.

Sharon glanced at him again, and he could see her shoulders slumping in a long sigh. "Honey, put this out of your mind. We'll catch this guy soon," she promised. "And as long as you stick to your instructions, you're perfectly safe."

He pointedly adjusted his crossed arms. "And you?"

Another sigh. "I'm safe too."

Right.

He shook his head, and dropped the attitude. "I just don't want this guy to come after you – because of me, Sharon," he admitted quietly.

"That's not going to happen. Trust me."

"How? I mean how can you know for sure...?" Rusty passed both hands through his hair, and looked at her again. "Look, I know you don't want me to be distracted with this or whatever, but what am I supposed to think, when you're just like, ignoring these letters," he worried, "I mean Sharon, if – when – if the situations were reversed, like if you were in my position right now, you'd tell – "

"But the situations aren't reversed," she said quietly. "And I'm not in your position, Rusty. I'm not." The car slowed down at another red light, and Sharon actually turned in her seat to look him straight in the eyes. "And you can trust that I'm one hundred percent certain of that," she told him somberly, "because I've spent the last several months thinking about very little else but this problem – and if I thought even for a second that there was the smallest chance that the letter writer would try to come after me, and not just you..." She frowned, "Then it would be me right now going out every day with SIS to draw him out, and you would absolutely still be under the same constant, visible police supervision that you were under for four months. Is that clear?"

Passing headlights swept over their car, reflecting in her eyes as she continued to fix him with that dead-serious look.

Rusty swallowed hard past the knot in his throat. Finally, he nodded. "Uh. Yeah..."

Sharon's lips pressed together. "But that's not an option for us, because I'm absolutely not the target of these threats, Rusty. You are. So if you're really trying to be considerate of me," she finished calmly, "then you're going to stop concerning yourself with irrelevant facts, and put the proper effort into doing what you're told. Tomorrow you're going to the park again, and if that doesn't go better than today, then you can count on the fact that I am going to pull the plug on this operation. Is that clear."

The boy nodded again.

Sharon let out a long, tired breath. She tried to think of something positive to say, to at least end this bleak discussion on some sort of an up note, but her mind was drawing a blank. Instead, she reached over to gently touch Rusty's shoulder for a second, then shifted again as the cars around began to move, and she pressed down on the gas pedal maybe a little harder than intended.

They both really needed to get home after that day.

And she really needed to get the letter writer, and put an end to this nightmare once and for all.

As per one request, this story will now very likely also involve one chapter describing Sharon's (and the team's) reaction to getting the first letter addressed to her. Any other thoughts, feel free to send them over!

Thank you for reading :).